Don't die on me
by CopperMax
Summary: A collection of One-shots from random parts of Dragon Age 2. Hawke is on the verge of death. Who is there? What do they think? How do they react? Does she survive? Will love conquer all? So many questions... So many situations. Different Hawkes, mage/warrior/rougue. In love with Fenris? Does he love her back? In lovw with Anders? Does he love her back? Ah, so many choices...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I've been havin some trouble with Fenris&Hawke lately, but lets see how this turns out shall we?**

There was scream for the other end of the battle field. How could it be? He had only left her a moment ago? He turned sharply, rushing to her aid. Nothing else mattered, no one else mattered. Only her... he made it there just in time to behead the would-be killer of his beloved Hawke. It'd been three years since that night. Three years of hidden glances and longing stares. Of wandering eyes and conversations where they spoke, yet said no words. They danced around the subject... but she still loved him. And he was still afraid... Afraid he would her hurt her, just as he did. Afraid to face her... But as Merrill had said, He was in love... And there most definitely were puppy-dog eyes.

But now, none of that mattered. Only she mattered. The battle was over, yet she did not stand. he knelt beside her and pulled her into his lap, gingerly brushing the hair from her beautiful face. She was obviously in pain, her bright eyes shining ever so slightly less as she said, "Let's not do that again, okay?"

He let out a long-held breath and the side of his mouth tilted up ever so slightly in that little half-smile she loved. The blood spilled from her wound as the healer and dwarf rushed over to her. "Hawke!" the mage said. kneeling next to her. Fenris seethed. He hated the mage. He hated how much Arden relied on him... How much she trusted him...despite... despite what he had tried...

_Fenris watched from his mansion as the mage caught up with her on her way to her estate. He watched her greet him warmly, but she was tired, he could see that from there. He crept down the stairs and out the door, "In case he tried anything" he told himself._

_He watched as Anders pushed her against the Hightown wall. He moved closer, marking threatening to burn as he forced his tongue into her mouth. Then she pushed him away, breathing hard and wiping her mouth on her arm she spat. "How_ dare _you!"_

_"Hawke, I-" the mage stuttered._

_"You can't just come and... and demand... You pushed me away, Anders! And now... when I find someone else-"_

_"He left you Hawke!" The mage seethed, throwing his hand to the side. "He treated you like a common whore!" She pushed him back._

_"You know nothing, Anders. You know _nothing _of him! Or me!" Her eyes watered, but she dared not let the tears fall. He wanted more than anything to take her in his arms, wrap her up and tell her how much he loved her. How it would be all right... How she was safe. But she would never be safe... She was Hawke, trouble dogged at her heels. She was Hawke, and she was always willing to help._

_"Fine." the mage barked, "Run back to the wolf, he'll _kill _you, just you watch. He'll chew you up and spit you back out... You'll see!"_

_Hawke didn't respond, only hung her head. The mage stalked back to Darktown, but Fenris stayed... He stayed and watched his beloved Hawke sit on the ground and bang her head against a Hightown wall a grand total of three times before letting a single tear drop from her eyes. She brushed it away, seeming disgusted with herself. Standing, she caught sight of him, hiding in the shadows._

_She pulled herself together in a matter of seconds. "Who are you?" the threat was clear, but not meant for him. He bowed his head ,stepping from the shadows. Everything about her relaxed, except her heart. It fluttered in her chest, speeding up and skipping a beat all at the same time only to be squandered b the walls encasing it. Protecting her heart from being ripped and torn apart. But her heart was no longer hers... it hadn't been for quite some time. It was his, he just didn't know it..._

_"Fenris..." she remembered her recent conversation with the mage. "How- How long-"_

_"Long enough..." was his reply and she nodded, turning on her heels, refusing to let him see her cry._

_And he'd let her go... Stupid, stupid, he'd told himself... and gone after her... only to stop at her doorway and shrink back to his mansion, to drink away this pain in his chest. This_ feeling _she made him feel... This impossible hurt that was living without her..._

All of it came back in a matter of seconds and he held her to him, staring menacingly at the mage to do what he had to do and GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HER! She bit her lip as she tried to move. "Don't Hawke," he whispered, "Lie still..." Of course Anders had told her that about five times already, but once from the elf and she obeyed...lying in his arms staring up into those deep green eyes.

"I need my supplies!" The mage cursed under his breath, "We have to get her to Darktown..."

Fenris cursed once more in Aracnum and Hawke, once again was glad she did not know what those words meant. She was beginning to phase out. "Fe- Fenris..." it was barely more than a whisper.

"I am here," was all he said, sweeping her off the ground as if she weighed no more an a feather. A slight smile settled on her lips as he said this.

"Keep her awake," the mage told him. The elf glared, but continued to talk to her.

"Hawke... Hawke, look at me... Arden," he said her name. It felt foreign, none had ever used her name, not int the many years he'd known her... it was always 'Hawke'. It brought her back to him. Eyes wide and focused, if for only a minute.

"Fenris..."

"Stay with me..." was all he said as he laid her on a Darktown cot. She nodded slightly as he took her hand. It was cold. Too cold. It wasn't right. Arden Hawke was warm, with skin soft to the tough and warm. Warm as her personality. Warm as life... His thumb gently stroked the back of her hand as she stared at him with bright eyes, threatening to close. He lightly caressed her cheek, keeping her eyes on him at all times, willing her to stay with him. For a life without Hawke, was no life at all.

**A/N: So? Tell me what you think. More scenarios with different Hawkes is good too. Any ideas are appreciated as well as reviews, which are loved.**


	2. Chapter 2

The lyruim infused elf rushed to her side. In a matter of seconds he went from one side of the room to the other. She had pulled the arishok's qunari great-sword from her abdomen, hands covered in her own blood. The elf caught her, just before her head hit the ground. Pain flashed behind her piercing blue eyes as he settled her into his lap. She fumbled for his hand.

She looked up into his emerald-green eyes, a half-hearted smile upon her lips. He held her hand. His free one gently brushing hair away from her face as her caressed her cheek. "It's my fault, if I hadn't-"

"No, Fenris..." she choked out. "I preferred it this way..." She reached up to brush a strand of shock white hair from his handsome face.

Her breathing slowed. "Hawke?" a look of fear crossed his elven face. A look none had ever seen him wear.

She smiled softly, "I'm here, Fenris..." Her eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open.

"Stay with me Hawke..." His thumb gently tracing the tattoo on her cheekbone. "Don't leave me," he whispered...

Her eyes were open, but only just. Her hand on top of his grew limp... She was descending into unconsciousness. Her companions had gathered round, forming a tightly knit circle, save two.

Aveline, being the protector she was, had rushed to Darktown to find the healer. Anders obsessed with her as he was, dropped everything and ran with the guard-captain to the Keep... to find the object of his infatuation in the arms of that hypocritical intolerable magic-hating narrow-minded broody elf!

Just as the door opened he saw the elf plant a small gentle kiss on the woman's lips. Fury burned inside him, justice flashing behind his eyes. Whispering words of vengeance in his ear. The elf had left her! treated her like a common whore! Left her broken and alone!But she still loved him, still waited for him.

Anders had watched on their many journeys the way the elf stared at her, a look of longing and sadness in his eye, only to be pushed aside, replaced by a cold expressionless blank stare when she bothered to look back at him. He'd watch as she half-smile at the elf, turning as her smile fell giving way to a moment of disappointment. She had flirted with him once upon a time, took notice of him and listened whole-heartedly to him without always full on agreeing with his methods. She would listen and debate, teach him control. He learned from her, slowly gaining the upper hand on his demons. Then that blighted elf came, never leaving her side. Her visits became less often, their talks shorter and less sweet.

Anders met the elf's steely glare, his eyes moving to the motionless Hawke that lay his arms. She was breathing. The slow but steady rise and fall of her chest the only sign that she was alive. The mage's attention was drawn to the bloody mess of her stomach. Blood stained her clothing as well as the elf's.

Fenris glared at the mage, his grip on Hawke tightening ever so slightly. He never liked the way the abomination looked at her. Eyes hiding a deeper emotion that only Fenris seemed to catch, the others caught up in his serious charade of righteousness. Lust, the mage wanted Hawke. For everything she was... Fenris didn't like that. He watched when Hawke looked at him, an easy smile upon her face as she talked to him, brushing off his words as 'friendly', not seeing the deeper meaning.

The blonde mage fell to his knees in front of the two. Immediately examining her wound. "Move your arm," he told Fenris, who obeyed with a low growl that only the mage heard. The threat was clear. Ander's eyes flickered to the piece of cloth around his wrist... Hawke's emblem. Blood soaked at it was, he wore it with revered importance. Like a trophy, Anders thought, for conquering the most beautiful woman in the free marches. For crushing her spirit, for stealing her affections. For taking her love.

Fenris looked down at the woman in his arms. Her personality was once enough to fill a room, this room however felt dreadfully empty, like the hole inside of him, that somehow felt non-existant when she was near.

"Hold this here," the mage instructed. The elf hesitantly obliged holding the cloth to her wound. Anders looked at him, "More pressure, we need to stop the bleeding enough for me to close the wound..."

The hum of magic filled the air as a soft glow escaped from the mages hand. His magic was wrong, Fenris knew. Twisted and warped by that thing inside him. Bethany's was different. Hawke's sister, the one she had protected so fiercely, had different magic... It was good, the only word that came to mind. He wondered how many mages there were like her... maybe Hawke was right, maybe there were mages who deserved freedom. Who deserved to live free, not to have the constant threat of captivity raised above them. But for every mage like that, there had to be ten like Anders and Merril, who fell prey to curiosity and desire. Vengeance and Hate. They could not be free... but they were still people. Hawke had once said they deserved to feel the rain on their skin, the wind in their hair. Fenris, knew what she meant by that...

They deserved freedom, but ev she knew the dangers, she knew they needed a watch, a guard, just in case, because she knew there were those who were not strong enough... Fenris could sympathize. He understood, he wasn't sure if he agreed, but he understood her direction...

But now was not the time for petty squables, Hawke was dying! Dying in his arms! Just barely breathing, holding onto life for all it was worth. Because she was worth so much. To him, and the world.

"There," the mage said, sitting up.

Fenris glared, opening his mouth to argue. The mage continued, "She's... well, she's sleeping. Her body went through so much trauma that it put her to sleep. She should wake up."

"Should?" the elf growled.

"Down boy," Isabella said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Truth was she felt this was her fault. She never would've forgiven herself had Hawke died. Fenris shot daggers in a look. She backed down, letting him go. Letting the elf go back to glaring down his nemesis. At one time, she had though Hawke would be fun in bed, but she grew to respect the woman too much, still making the notions and dirty jokes. The elf she had found attractive from the very being, but she saw the way he looked at the other woman. She saw the way Hawke looked back at him. They loved each other... but they were both to stubborn, and afraid of being hurt that they ignored it, waiting for the other.

Varric was watching everyone closely, spinning another one of his wild tales... The elf and Hawke... The mage and Hawke... he knew whose eyes were on who, but there was only so much Hawke to go around. And what romance there was, was sad and broken, limping along like a three-legged dog. It wasn't the passion-filled stuff of stories, and certainly not the love of a Hawke that was larger than life. The public didn't know of the sad broken-hearted woman, whose eyes refused to shed tears at her sister's blight infected body. Of the shocked, stoic Hawke who bore her mother's blame. Of the Hawke behind sad little smiles and sarcastic comments meant to throw you off track. They didn't deserve that Hawke, they'd crush her. They much preferred the witty rouge with a smart-mouth and loyal companions who backed up her every move. The Hawke who killed an ogre with her bare-hands.

For what it was worth, Varric preferred the woman herself. The Hawke with a sassy grin always up for game of Wicked Grace. His friend. He looked over at her broken body. The elf pulled her close, standing. He watched as the elf, muttered some incomprehensible words into her ear. He watched at the mage sent them an envying glare. Broody had him, beat. Broody was the king of glares in his book, only Hawke had ever bested him.

Aveline watched as well. Why Hawke had fallen for the Tevinter-fugitive she had no idea, but in her book it was as plain as day. He loved her, and he was just as bad as herself in conveying it. His eyes always following he every move, now fixated on her unblinking eyes. Aveline sighed, for they made each other happy... but also just as miserable. They were slowly killing each other, neither willing to say the words. Neither making the move. And Anders, the (beep), Aveline thought. He had her attentions and threw them away. Then, when she found someone else, he got jealous, insulting and rude, doing everything in his power to stop them. Aveline sighed.

Merril was down-right confused, why couldn't they just be happy? They loved each other, that much was obvious. Merril had sen the slow the slow progression from stranger, to friend, to much-much closer friend, to something more. Then something had happened. She didn't know what. But they stopped, avoiding each others eyes, but staring once they'd looked away. Fenris with the sad puppy eyes and Hawke, poor Hawke, with the 'Should I? Should I not?' internal fight. Her eyes torn. Merril was depressed by the sadness of it all.

She watched at the abnormally tall elf carried Hawke away, cradling her in his arms. Gentle, as is she were about to break.

Merril had seen them kiss once, the elf with a power that scared her. He had slammed Hawke against the wall, but she had only smirked, bringing her lips down upon his, wrapping her legs around his slender waist and running her finger through his hair. She was saddened by the memory. The strong, tough, invincible Hawke, reduced to a fragile figure, lying in the arms of the tattooed elf with muscular arms and shock white hair.

* * *

"Wake up, Hawke," he whispered. "Wake up... I- I need you..."

Her eyes fluttered open, "Don't leave me," she whispered, her voice hollow and haunted.

"Never again," he whispered back. A smile forming on her face.

"I love you."

"And I you"

And they kissed. A sweet gentle, loving kiss, that formed the way, a beginning, and a promise for many more of the same and more... intense levels.

She smiled, and he smiled back, happy she was alive, and at last... his.


End file.
